When our children were young, we lived in a stone home built in 1758 in Westtown, Chester County, Pennsylvania, which is less than an hour from Center City, Philadelphia. The county is similar to Lancaster County with rolling hills, small towns, and fertile farmland. Many Amish live tucked away in the countryside alongside their English neighbors.

Our second son lives only a couple miles from where he was raised and he and his wife have a lovely property where they're raising their two young daughters.

While visiting this past week-end, we shopped at an amazing Amish grocery store, located at Routes 202 and 926 in Westtown. Normally, I won't buy store desserts, since they're usually disappointing, but oh my! The fresh donuts were the best ever! The crumb cakes had more crumb topping than cake! and the tea biscuits were packed with fresh raisins. The building used to be a regular market, so there is large square-footage and Amish people run their own stands. I'll post some pictures.

Back home. These lasted all of five minutes!! My granddaughter, Ashley, helped.

As I sat on a metal bench, shaded by an overhanging roof at a ride in Disneyland, I observed the wonderful kaleidoscope of humanity. I watched as several young parents proudly pushed their infants in strollers past the entranceway to the ride. Then there were elderly people and others with physical disabilities being escorted in wheelchairs. Every age was represented. I observed fair-skinned Scandinavians pass by as well as rich chocolate-skinned African-Americans and families from every Asian nation as they meandered along the walkways. Yes, in addition to Broadway and Kennedy Airport, this was a fantastic place to ‘people watch.’

Waiting for my loved ones to exit the ride at Disney’s Fantasyland, I had ample time to observe and ponder the lives of my fellow human beings. Unbeknownst to us, we had picked one of the park’s busiest days. It was the Thursday before Easter and Spring break, which enticed thousands to make their way to Florida.

People from all walks of life and all countries of the world, having saved religiously for months—maybe years—for this occasion, were fulfilling their “parental duty” by providing their off-spring with the life-time experience of Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck land.

Why were there so few happy expressions? Where was the promised joy – the fulfillment of the ‘happiness’ ads? Instead of laughter and smiles, I saw harried, tired parents, exhausted toddlers—some with tear-stained faces—walking as if half-comatose. There was a strange atmosphere as I watched the never-ending line of bodies weaving a course along the ribboned mazes – back and forth – leading to their next event. I made the comparison to the long waits in our airports to get through security. Here, all we received for an hour’s wait was five minutes of entertainment.

A large, extremely over-weight man in his early forties sat across from me also observing the scene. He reached continuously for something edible out of a medium sized paper bag and sat – chewing – crunching – staring.A young woman sat on the next bench for nearly half an hour watching over two strollers with sleeping children while others in her party made their way through the aisles for the brief ride awaiting them. Her countenance displayed only boredom. Her family and friends returned without comment. One of the fathers checked his colorful map and decided on the next hour’s wait for the next five minutes of ‘fun’ and they all moved on.

Eventually my family, consisting of my husband, son, daughter and three grandchildren returned, and we did what so many others do. We planned the next hike. We were determined to have fun. We had to. The cost demanded it!The heat bounced from the pavements and the sun relentlessly reminded us of our physical discomfort. Our clothes clung to our bodies. Temperatures were soaring as our happy dispositions faltered. Our ten-year-old granddaughter was flushed and became faint from the heat. We found a fountain and splashed water over her brow and head and found a patch of shade with a bench. Our son felt queasy and our older granddaughter took Tylenol for a headache. I was exhausted.

We managed to find lunch in a crowded family restaurant though the cacophony of voices drowned out any hope of conversation. As soon as we finished our mediocre lunch, we found space alongside the curb where hundreds of other ticket holders were priming themselves for the Disney Parade.

Finally, the music came closer and we watched as high school bands from around the country led the way—marching in their heavy woolen uniforms in the 90-degree heat—perspiring and flushed. Dancers and characters out of storybooks and Disney movies danced along the roadway, flashing glued-on smiles and white teeth at the waiting crowds. What had sounded so glamorous to these young people before arriving, had become routine and monotonous.We spent more money in the souvenir shops and then proceeded on our way down the main street. The masses of people began thinning down as the afternoon progressed. First it was barely noticeable, but then we could see some pavement under our feet and the air became fresher, as breezes cooled our tired bodies. Something magical was happening. It was as if Disney had turned on air conditioning.

Lights appeared all about us. The man-made lakes glimmered as God-made ducks sailed silently across the water forming dark banners as they skimmed across to the island surrounding the façade of the castle, which was suddenly highlighted by spot-lights.

Headaches and fatigue dissipated as cameras started clicking. Smiles, laughter and family jokes lightened the early evening and fond memories were being created.

Yes, our new generation had reached its right of passage. And in decades to come our grandchildren will tell of their wonderful adventures in Fantasyland when life temporarily became magical.

The most frequent question I get when speaking with a group about my books, is how did you begin writing? At first, I stumbled somewhat, trying to recall when I had an epiphany about devoting much of my time and life to the creative process of writing. Truthfully, I've always loved to express myself through the written word.

Even as a child, I was the kid on the block who wrote the plays we performed for our audiences consisting of adoring parents and friends on hot summer nights. At camp, after lights out, the group of young campers sat around my bunk as I scared the wits out of them with my 'scary' tales conjured up in my overactive mind. My first short story was written when I was about five. It was about my cat, who talked to me. In English, of course.

Then during a holiday dinner, when surrounded by my five adult children and their families, I was coerced into writing the stories of our adventures owning a country inn in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania. After all, I was the one with time on my hands. (According to the kids.) We'd spent eleven years and there were many amusing tales to be told. I spent about six months organizing the chapters, writing and re-writing our amusing (to us) stories of life as innkeepers. This became the book, "Inn Sane," which I ended up self-publishing. It started out to be just for the family to enjoy, but became much more. I recently updated it by adding an epilogue and changing a few of the photos.

I had so much fun writing it, that I took classes in creative writing while staying in Florida during winters. I also began the Julia Series, which remained on my hard drive for a couple years. After about fifteen novels, I pulled Julia out and re-wrote the three books, improving them and editing. They are my favorite books, but I'm known more for my Amish series, which have been best sellers.

I'll get back to you in time and tell you some other tidbits about the writing world. Though it involves work--far more than people realize--it is a great joy to entertain others. My Christian faith is an integral part of my writing and my desire is to enrich my stories with the truth of my Savior and his love for his people. A seed planted perhaps. My greatest joy is to hear from my readers and know in some small way I've been able to touch their hearts and minds and encourage them through their times of trials, just as my characters have dealt with their struggles.

After a brutal winter, the trees are bursting through -- a reminder of the promise of new life. We spent a good part of the winter in Florida, which is a true blessing since I hate being cold. In spite of the reprieve from winter, I was homesick for the beautiful state of Pennsylvania. This is a view from my front door taken in early May.

This is the view from my bedroom window - taken early in May (the same day) around six in the morning.

I hate to be cold. Of course, I hate to be too hot, too. Give me temps between 70 and 75 and you'll see one happy lady. The landscape when covered in snow is breathtaking. If only it snowed in the summer.

This is a shot taken from out my kitchen window. Our creator is fantastic!

This picture below is a shot of my bedroom window taken one frosty morning in January of this year. It brought back memories of Disney's Fantasia. Remember when the skaters cracked the ice?

One more picture from a December sunset in my hometown in Pennsylvania.

No longer Spring, my hubby and I enjoy these spectacular roses and gardens during our coffee break. The peonies are a thing of the past, their gorgeous blooms trampled by heavy rains, but their lush foliage continues to provide beauty to God's gardens.

I hope you are enjoying your summer and fulfilling your dreams. May and June are my favorite months. Lots of sunshine and colorful gardens. For me, as a writer, it's truly an inspirational time of the year.

I haven't been posting lately. Forgive me for ignoring my site, but I have spent my time writing a new book -- a follow-up of the 3-book Amish Series. Yesterday I added "The End," followed by a drawn out sigh of relief. However, it is far from the end, more like the beginning. For now the 'work' begins. I love writing fresh work. My creative spirit expands as my characters take off in unexpected directions. They become alive to me and on paper. The first edit pulls me down to reality, and I cut and paste, delete, switch tenses, and get rid of all the redundant phrases.

The next time through, I look for discrepancies in the time line, character depictions, and a multitude of other areas that could create problems for the reader.

Writing is fun. I thank God everyday for the talent he's given me to write from a Christian perspective and stay true to my beliefs. But writing is also work -- and can be draining.

My new book is called, Waiting for Belinda. You will still be in touch with our friends from Lancaster County who we met in Ruth's Dilemma, Emma's Choice, and Katie's Discovery, but now we slip over to Holmes County, Ohio, where we are introduced to Belinda, Gabe's niece, who is causing grief to her Amish parents as she uses her time of Rumschpringe to try her wings. Her adventures continue as she spends time in Pennsylvania, creating problems, not only for her family, but for herself as well. You'll love her, want to strangle her, and everything in between as she discovers who she is and what she wants to become.

My books are wholesome enough for young adults, but interesting enough for all ages. (Even men enjoy them, though I've been sworn to secrecy by some)

I hope to have Waiting for Belinda available this summer. Jah, that would be ever so nice.

From time to time I like to post articles or short stories for your information about the life of a writer. I've only been writing professionally for about six years. Before that, I've owned and operated a large country inn in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania, worked in a bank, owned an antique shop, and raised five kids and now enjoying eight grandchildren.I am a Christian and my writings are from that perspective. You will not read profane language or smut. I just write from the heart and always have happy endings! Blessings.